


is it a great or little thing we fought?

by jamestkirk



Series: is it a great or little thing we fought? [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamestkirk/pseuds/jamestkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We should,” Luke interrupts, sure of himself now. Over the last year, he’s come to realize that bringing down the evil of the Empire is more important than any fear for his own life. He’d done what he’d set out to. He’d ran away, had his adventure. But now it’s time to face what he’d been so scared to, what he still is.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Luke Skywalker never grew up on Tatooine. Never ran away with an old man and a smuggler. Instead, he's only known as the son of Darth Vader. Han Solo is nothing but another Stormtrooper, disposable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	is it a great or little thing we fought?

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I asked myself what would've happened if Vader had found out about Luke when he was three years old and Han never did defect from the Empire with a Wookie.
> 
> The title's from Drunken Lullabies by Flogging Molly.
> 
> This might turn into a series. I'm not sure.
> 
> Thanks to [the best nerd ever](http://bcnsolos.tumblr.com/) for screaming with me about this au and bugging me to keep writing.

_A son._

_The emotions that rippled beneath his skin were once thought to be lost to time, no longer needed for the power that replaced them. His chance of a family had disappeared like dust, forgotten just as quickly as if the hope had never existed in the first place. Only allowed to exist in the smallest moments over those three years, the memory of joy crawling up his spine. And yet, the chance had been handed to him again, so easily in his grasp. The boy was protected by nothing but sand and two people that dared to call him family. He wondered, had they told him that his grandmother had been their slave? The familiar anger wormed its way inside his chest, its familiarity putting him at a comfortable unease._

" _I assure you, I knew nothing of the child surviving," Sidious' voice cut through the silence, mistaking Vader's lack of response for suspicion._

" _Yes, my lord." For the first time in years, he felt restless, his knees shifting slightly and head tilting slightly to the side. The agitation, the unrest, all familiar remnants of a time passed._

_Giving no sign that he'd sensed the shifting energy, though he surely had, Sidious only lifted his chin higher. "You will fetch the boy. If he proves strong with the Force, he would make a useful asset."_

_Vader's fists clenched by his side, agitation spiking slightly at the thought that his son was only being thought of as a commodity. Letting out a small breath, he reasoned. The Emperor was only speaking the truth. There was very little the man would say that hadn't been thought through and planned. At this pivotal juncture in their plans, it would be imperative to make plans for the future. Emotions and attachment weren't something to be examined, not in the face of such a probability. The irony did not escape him, that only now could such teachings become logical. Of course, if it weren't for his attachment, the situation would not have arisen at all. Both had their uses._

" _And if he does not?"_

" _I am sure we could find some other use for him. Now go. Obi-Wan will return to the planet in only a matter of days."_

_With a final bow of his head, Vader pulled himself to his feet. "Yes, my lord."_

* * *

 

"So you're my new guard." Luke eyes the Stormtrooper standing in front of him, at perfect parade rest. Beneath the armor, he can sense the contradiction of that. The energy and restlessness within the man. It's a nice change.

"It would appear so, sir."

The almost flippant tone draws a small quirk of his lips though it's not really unexpected. He shifts the smile down, his own hands folding at the small of his back. It's nice, having someone respond to him without the stiffness, without the fear. Sure, it makes things easier, without the friendship. But it sure does get lonely, sometimes, feeling like he's the only human on this damned station.

"Alright. I'm told it's a boring job." He isn't. But he's sure it is. Oh, sure, there's trouble. There always is. But Luke's more than capable of handling it on his own, nearly surpassing his father already.

"That so?" Clearly picking up on the fact that Luke doesn't mind the informal tone, the Stormtrooper's voice has relaxed further though his still stiff posture tells him he's still on edge. "Even better for me. I wouldn't be any sort of respectable guard if I wanted you in trouble."

The smile from earlier cracks again. "What's your name, trooper?"

"NT-9593."

Luke barely refrains from rolling his eyes. "Your _real_ name."

"...Han. Han Solo." The words are spoken as if they haven't touched air in years and Luke wouldn't doubt it. He knows it had shocked his previous guards when he'd asked. It bothers him, these nameless drones they call soldiers. How can you have loyalty, if you don't even give someone an identity? Of course, most of them choose this. Choose to fight and die for the Empire. The thought twists knots in his stomach. If he'd had that freedom… He shakes his head only slightly, blond hair falling into his eyes for a moment. A life that would've been.

"Well, Han, until there's something for you to do, you can-" He cuts himself off, spine straightening as a chill sweeps through him. His eyes slip shut, focusing on the sensation until he can find the source. They snap open, already walking towards the hall, heels clicking on the floor as Han hurries to catch up. Before he can ask, Luke answers. "Rebels." It's the only explanation needed.

The eerie calm unnerves him, serving as a reminder that he only he and Han know the trouble that's coming. Knowing that in only a matter of minutes, the men around him will be dead… His pace quickens, Han only two steps behind him. The path before them parts seamlessly, as it does for his father. It should bring pride, but it doesn't. None of it does. Not anymore.

"You know when they'll be here?" Han asks from behind him, voice wavering slightly on the movement.

"Soon. I wouldn't be surprised if they came through any minute."

"Damn. And here I was thinking I might get a chance to go down to the planet. Find a nice cantina..." The joke's clearly an attempt to soothe the atmosphere. If Luke didn't find it so bizarre, he might appreciate it. He doesn't reply, nearly running though through the haze of the palpable feeling of danger in the air, he barely notices the change at all.

His father comes into view only moments later, back turned towards them, presumably on his way towards his quarters. The change in Han is immediate, almost something Luke can touch it's so obvious. They slow, coming to a halt as Vader turns towards them. His emotions are unreadable for the mask and the thick shields blocking his mind. It's been years since he's let anything leak through. Since Luke was a boy.

"Father. I've felt a disturbance. The rebels- they're here." The realization dawns as he speaks the words, the station bursting into motion nearly as soon as they've left his lips.

"I must speak with the Emperor. You will hold them off." If his father feels any unease about the situation, Luke doesn't know. He can only nod quickly, beckoning Han after him though there's no need to. Already several paces ahead, he's too late to see the lingering glance his father throws their way before he sets off on his own.

This time, the Stormtrooper falls into step beside him, looking at Luke for a second. Momentarily, Luke wonders what he looks like under that helmet. He'd like to know the man he might die with, in any case. "You should leave. Get off the station. You won't make it if you stay."

"I'm supposed to be _protecting_ you. Not just taking off on some whim."

"Then take me with you." His voice is quiet, steady. As if what he's saying isn't important or capable of changing everything he's known.

Han's gait stumbles slightly, turning to look at him in shock. Luke can't blame him. What he's saying, it's treason. It's dangerous and it's not something that should never pass the lips of Darth Vader's son. His eyes stay trained ahead of him, ignoring the way Han's still watching him. If he's not who Luke thinks he is, which is extremely likely when you've only known someone at most a half hour, then this could end, well. _Badly_.

He almost thinks it has when Han puts a rough hand on his shoulder, pulling him into an alcove, closing in. Luke's pulse jumps, hand at the hilt of his saber on instinct, looking up into the empty black of the helmet's eye sockets, waiting for any sign that Han's going to try anything. Instead of anything he expected, the trooper's hand drops from his shoulder, stepping back only slightly, though his head leans in to compensate.

"Do you know what you're saying, kid?" It's hissed, as if there's anyone around to watch them. Luke startles at the nickname, not something he's ever heard directed at him. If there was any hope for formality between the two of them, it's long lost. It sets his mouth into a frown.

" _Yes_ ," he snaps. "I do. Believe it or not, I don't just say things I don't mean."

Han's silent for a few moments, presumably trying to absorb the weight of this. He lets out a harsh breath. "Listen, I get you're daddy's boy, but that won't stop them from killing you."

Luke's chin juts out, defiant. Terrified. "I'm not. I don't want to be here, just like you. Besides, you've got a better chance with me. You go alone, they'll track you down before you can count to ten." It's a long life of acting, of calculating his words and actions, that keeps his voice even and confidant. And perhaps, in a way, it is.

He's never had a plan. Never even gotten so far as contemplating one. But his whole life, he's wanted free. More so when he'd first been taken. Weeks spent crying for his aunt and uncle, terrified of the soulless black mask claiming to be his father. Only pure instinct to survive, to improve, had driven him to finally accept his new life. For a while, he'd even convinced himself it was what he wanted. But by the time he was able to comprehend the horrors around him, the fantasy had faded. This isn't the life he wants. The decision he makes, the offer, it's impulsive. Only minutes ago he'd been prepared to fight another long battle. But it's something else entirely that drives him now. Perhaps the will of the Force. Maybe his own mind. He doesn't know, but he won't let the chance escape him now.

There's a lengthy pause, far from silent with the alarms, shouting voices, and running footsteps. But eventually, Han speaks, nodding. "Alright." Luke blinks, taken aback by the easy acceptance.

"Just like that?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd say Han's scowling from behind that helmet. "You complainin'?"

Luke shakes his head after a moment. "No." The ground beneath them shakes, the shrieking sound of an explosion on the other side of the station. He pushes Han back, stepping out from the alcove while an idea forms in his head. "Come on. I've got a plan."

* * *

 

"Tell me again about your great plan, _Lord Arcanis_." The rain's pelting down on them in sheets, Luke's cloak over their heads in an attempt to stave off the worst of it. His hair's plastered to his forehead, a scowl permanently stuck on his lips and he assumes the same can be said for Han. Their knees are caked in mud, ruining that pristine white of the Stormtrooper's armor.

"Don't call me that." It's mumbled, distracted as he squints at the distance, hoping for some sign of shelter from the storm. "So it didn't go _exactly_ to plan. We got away. That's all that matters." His breath fogs in front of him, rain clinging to his eyelashes and making it hard to blink. He's cold down to his bones, his hand shaking slightly where it's holding onto the cloak.

"Yeah? Well gettin' away won't do us any good if we freeze to death out here." From the strain in his voice, Luke can tell his teeth are gritted. He can't fault him for not wanting to take off the helmet. If he did, he'd just as soaked as Luke is right now. Granted, his vision's impaired by fog with it on, but Luke would take that over being as cold as he is any day. "And just what in the hells am I supposed to call you anyway? Ain't that your name?"

"It's Luke." Not Skywalker. It's not a name he wants any claim to. His father may have been a great man when it'd belonged to him, but he wasn't that anymore. Luke. The name his mother gave him and the name his aunt and uncle would call down the halls. A name they screamed as they burned. It's a name that hasn't been tainted by the Emperor, only passing his father's lips a handful of times. It's a name he wants to keep..

A low hum comes from under the helmet and Luke assumes he's about to reply before he stops himself, arm flashing out and pointing in the distance. "Look, over there. Looks like a cave or somethin'." They both take off in a run, his fingers curling tighter around the cloak. Their feet slip on the mud-slicked grass, nearly sending them tumbling a few times. Neither seems to care that at this point there's little point in hurrying, already as soaked as they're going to get. But even a few more minutes in the downpour doesn't seem tolerable now that there's shelter in sight.

They scramble into the cave, dropping the cloak down to the ground. Luke shakes his head, water flying from his hair. In a vain attempt to feel at least somewhat dryer, he strips off his outermost tunic, letting it fall beside the cloak. Next come his boots, taking slightly longer as they're wrapped nearly to his knees. They'll need to start a fire once the rain's died down long enough for one of them to go out and get wood to dry, but for now, it's the best he can do. Han's lucky enough to have his armor, but all Luke has is this. Carefully, he sets his lightsaber down on the pile of cloth. He'll need to build a new one, the red turning his stomach. He feels a gaze on it and turns, expecting to find that same blank gaze of the Stormtrooper's helmet.

Instead, he's met with earnest hazel eyes and a face that would fit better on a bronze statue. His stomach swoops, unable to look away. Han's gaze drifts from the lightsaber, a hand reaching up to run through brown hair, flopping down into his eyes. Catching Luke's eyes on him, he raises a brow and Luke looks away with a slight dusting of red on his cheeks.

"What? Did you expect a Hutt under here?" His tone tries to be lazy, failing only because of the slight breathlessness from the run here. And really, they've been running since they met. Weird, to think that was only a few hours ago, and yet their entire reality's shifted. Still averting his gaze, Luke sits against the wall of the cave, tucking his feet under his thighs and his arms around his middle in an attempt to keep himself warm.

Ignoring Han's ribbing, he looks up at him again as he undoes his armor. "When the rain slows down, we'll have to go out for wood." The white armor falls to the ground with a _thud_ , leaving Han in his black undergarments. Luke thinks bitterly of how warm he must be, completely dry.

Han nods, following suit and folding himself on the cave floor across from Luke once he's completely stripped of the weight of the remnants of his loyalty to the Empire. "Yeah, that's what I was thinkin'. I'll go. You should stay here. Might not have my orders anymore, but I'm still not too keen on the idea of you wandering out there by yourself."

Luke rolls his eyes, tucking further into himself as a shiver passes through him. "Han, I can take care of myself."

"And that's what I'm afraid of, kid. You're not disposable like me. I'm cannon fodder; you're the son of Darth Vader."

Luke's lips pull into a frown. "Why do you all think of yourselves like that? I'm no different than you." The latter point, he can concede to. The Empire would be more eager on getting their hands on him again than a Stormtrooper they have hundreds more of. As uncomfortable as it is, that's the truth of it.

Han looks distinctly uncomfortable, as if he's let something slip he wasn't supposed to and wants to desperately shove it right back in his mouth. "Look, don't ask me. I wouldn't know." Something tells Luke he does know, that it's something he's dwelled on. But he doesn't pry, instead picking at a loose thread on the seam of his pants. It's not like he'd want to talk about it either. Or any of his own thoughts on the whole thing, like telling Han why he wanted to leave so badly. It must've been something of a shock, what with the way Luke's been Vader and Sidious' errand boy for sixteen years. And yet Han hadn't asked. The least he can do is return the favor.

There's silence for a few minutes, only the sound of the rain pounding on the ground outside and the trees blowing in the wind. It grows heavy, the weight of the day crushing down on the both of them. So much has changed. And Luke's sure that it's not just for them. By now, they know he's gone. He doesn't want to know how his father reacted. Who might've lost their lives for the mistakes that lead to him being able to leave unnoticed.

Eventually, he clears his throat, looking up from where his eyes had been focused on an unassuming clump of dirt. "So, where do we go from here?" The words are more solemn than any of their previous exchanges. Through all of this, they hadn't really stopped to consider the future. There'd only been one goal: get out.

"No choice but to go forward." Han's legs slide out, stretching in front of him and disturbing the ground, dust shifting in the air. His arms cross over his chest, studying Luke a moment with a pensive look. "...y'know, the Rebel Alliance's always lookin' for new recruits."

Luke very nearly gapes at him. "No. No way! They'd kill me as soon as they saw me!" There's no doubt in his mind about that. Sure, he may not have wanted a part in any of it. Got out the moment he could. But that doesn't erase everything he's done in the name of the Empire. _Darth Arcanis_ has been written in blood, an afterthought after Lord Vader. He'd tried, gods he'd tried, to avoid the path they'd set him on, but there's only so many excuses you can make. Only so many times you can fail.

"Alright, alright. Calm down, kid. We won't go runnin' after the Alliance if you're so worried about it." Some of the tension bleeds from Luke's shoulders at that, slumping to rest against the wall again. It's not the kind of thing he'd do living with his father, but the day's drained him. And besides, he's _free_ now. Free to do whatever he wants. And if that includes such a small thing as slouching against a wall, well. That's fine too.

"...thanks." It's a word that should come easily. One he thinks often enough. But it hasn't left his lips in a while. It takes a moment to remember the shape of the word.

Han only shrugs. "Yeah, sure. No problem." A pause. "What's your plan then?"

Luke frowns then, looking down at his fingernails, contemplating that. In short: he doesn't have one. Hells, he hadn't even planned on leaving at all until he did just that. He hadn't even thought they'd get this far, which is nearly nowhere at all. The middle of some rainy planet in a small, damp cave. He doesn't know where they can go. He knows they have to get off this planet. Find a ship capable of lightspeed and get as far away as they can. After that, he has no idea. No idea where they'll go, how they'll earn credits. _Why he's thinking in 'we' at all…_ There's no plan. They don't even have another set of clothes. The thought makes him laugh, a little hysterical thing. He doesn't have to look up to know Han's giving him an odd look for it.

"I don't know." Another humorless laugh, his legs unfolding from under him to draw up under his chin, shaking his head. "I don't know…" he repeats, waiting for the rain to subside.

* * *

 

It's funny, how one looks back on life. Moments that took ages while you were in them can be summed down to a single thought. When the sun parted the clouds the next morning, they put out their fire and tracked their way into the nearest port where they traded in work for passage to an outer rim planet. Luke had entertained the thought of returning to Tatooine, but he wouldn't risk Vader thinking to look there. Instead, they stayed on Annoo until they could earn enough credits to move on. It went like that, planet to planet, earning their keep and gaining connections, until they had enough credits for their own ship.

And now, he's here. So different from when he'd first met Han and they'd left their lives to chance. Currently, they're docked on Aris, planning only to stay for a few weeks. His elbows rest against the rope of the bridge strung up between the trees, the cheerful sounds of the cantina behind him and the moonlight reflecting on his skin. His gaze is fixed absently on a meandering Wok-Wok, a monkey-like creature he's become quite fond of in the few days they've been here. The wind is soft, his hair blowing gently around his face. It's grown longer, in the months since he's left that old life, though not by much.

He tenses slightly when a hand lands on his shoulder, fingers curling into the material of his tunic. After a moment, he relaxes as the familiarity of the touch registers. He turns his head slightly, to glance back at his companion. "Hey, Han," he greets softly before turning his gaze back towards the cluster of trees below them. The Wok-Wok is gone, much to his disappointment.

"What're you doin' out here, kid? You're missin' all the fun." Han's hand slips from his shoulder, coming to stand next to him instead, leaning against the railing and hip jutting out at an angle.

"Just needed some fresh air, that's all. It's nice out tonight." It's not something he'd gotten to really enjoy, before. His life had been a flurry of motion and he'd never gotten to stop and appreciate any of it. While he's now on the run, constantly moving, there's still something different about it. It's _fun_. He's got Han by his side, a blaster now occupying the space his lightsaber once had. The thing's destroyed. He can't say he misses it and everything it represents. He tells himself he'll build a new one. One day. When he's ready. Right now, he's enjoying the life he's made. And the moments like these, when it can slow down, give him time to find his footing.

Han glances around for a moment, as if only now taking in the night. "Yeah, I suppose it is." He smiles in that crooked way of his. Luke's only ever seen his genuine one a handful of times. And he's glad for it. Even this sideways one makes his stomach flip on itself, his head ducking a moment. Han's still looking at him, as if there's some answer he can find in the way the light's shining off golden hair. "I was thinkin' it was getting pretty late anyway. Head in for the night."

Luke nods absently, his thumb running lightly over the railing. "Alright. After you, trooper."

"Whatever you say, your lordship." A small smile tugs at Luke's lips, glad for the way they can joke about this now. Those raw wounds they once carried now starting to scab over. Though, thankfully, Han's never called him by the name the Emperor had given him again. Luke's grateful for that. It's a name better left to time.

Despite Han's words, he's still standing there. Still watching him. When Luke finally returns the look, brows pinched in curiosity, Han reaches out, brushing aside a lock of hair with the ghost of a touch. It's barely a moment at all, but it freezes in time, breath catching somewhere in Luke's throat. Finally, Han moves, pushing off the railing and starting towards the inn they're currently calling home.

Luke stands, frozen, for a few more moments, watching Han's retreating back. _It's nothing. Just a touch, nothing more._ They'd touched plenty of times. Luke's a surprisingly tactile person and Han doesn't seem to mind. Over these months, they've grown closer. And anyway, he wouldn't know if the touch could mean anything more. Luke can honestly say that Han's the first friend he's had. He doesn't want to ruin that. He's already done enough damage, having feelings for him in the first place. Letting it color their interactions, inevitably.

"You comin'?" Han's voice snaps him out of his reverie, the man stopped and head turned back to give Luke a raised brow. Of course. He doesn't know. Luke lets out a breath, hurrying to follow after him, the opposite of the first time they'd met. They stand on equal footing now and it's something he'd wanted with someone for a long time. It's enough, he tells himself. It's more than enough.

* * *

 

Lightsaber drawn, Luke is pressed back to back with Han. Its now green blade shimmers in the early dawn, a contrast to the pinks and oranges of the atmosphere around them. He deflects blaster shots, sending them back towards the Stormtroopers that had somehow found them. He can feel it in the air, in his _veins_ , that if they don't get out soon, Vader will be following right after them. Deflecting another, the sudden cease in firing makes it clear they've incapacitated those around them.

Before more can arrive, he's turning, sliding his new saber into his belt before reaching for Han's wrist, pulling him towards their ship at a dead run. They'll have to trade it in for a new one now. But there's no time for worrying about that, just focused on getting through the doors before they're surrounded again. And they do make it, just barely, Luke releasing his hand to run for their respective stations, getting the hell off of this planet as soon as the engines are started up.

After they've jumped to lightspeed with as little damage done to the ship as possible, Luke's heart is somewhere in his throat. He could _feel_ his father's presence, one that's now finally ebbing. In their year of travel, they've never come this close to losing everything. He's never been this close to his father, never this close to those chains. His eyes slip shut to block out the threat of the world spinning, breathing, pulling peace and soothing from the Force.

Finally, he opens his eyes again, picking himself up to make his way into the corridor, where he knows Han will be waiting for him. It's how it goes, with any brush with death. They'll talk after, eyes bright and cheeks flushed with adrenaline. Except, there's not that rush of excitement this time. Only terror. For Han, he can't say. But he can guess. Just as he'd suspected, the Corellian is standing there, hand in his hair and chest moving with deep breaths. His head snaps up as Luke enters, his eyes burning with fear and something else entirely. Before Luke can speak. Han's rushing forward, his hand dropping from his hair to cup his jaw, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

Luke makes a soft sound of surprise, hands hovering at his sides and eyes wide open, unable to move. Unable to _breathe_ as reality tips on its axis for a moment. With the lack of response, Han pulls back, gaze searching. "Kid, I know you feel it too. C'mon, give me a sign here that I didn't just fuck everything up." Even with his words, Han's pulling back, ready to respect that decision if he's wrong. Instead, Luke shakes his head lightly, finally unfreezing to reach out, fingers curling into Han's shirt to draw him down again, eyes slipping shut as their lips meet again.

It's unsure, tentative. Luke has no clue what he's doing. There'd been no time for anything like this before Han, or the desire. The relief in the other man is palpable, his shoulders loosening as the hand cupping his jaw reaches to instead rest on Luke's waist, pressing closer again. When they pull apart, he rests their foreheads together, eyes still shut with only their breath between them.

The air's charged, the seriousness of the moment clouding the elation at something they've both been waiting for for ages. "That was too damn close," Han mutters after a moment, eyes finally opening. It doesn't need saying. They both know it; it's why they're here. Luke's grip on his shirt loosens, reaching up instead to rest at the nape of his neck, thumb brushing over his skin.

"I know." His own eyes stay shut, taking a deep breath. "I know." His head ducks to rest against Han's shoulder, fitting into the crook of his neck as he breathes him in. Warm and so blessedly alive. But he won't be for long, if they don't figure something out. And they both know it.

It's a slight surprise when Han turns his head to rest his chin on Luke's head, holding him close. And maybe it's the danger, the fact that they'd almost lost each other, that has him holding on like if he lets go Luke'll disappear into thin air. Not one for affection, it's strange, unexpected. Luke can't mind it. "We gotta figure something else out. I know you think the Rebel Alliance'll be a bad idea, but they're-"

"We should," Luke interrupts, sure of himself now. Over the last year, he's come to realize that bringing down the evil of the Empire is more important than any fear for his own life. He'd done what he'd set out to. He'd ran away, had his adventure. But now it's time to face what he'd been so scared to, what he still is.

Han pulls away slightly to look at him, surprise etched on his features. But not one to let it seem like he's been caught off guard, even if Luke knows him better than he's ever let anyone, he rests chin back on Luke's head. "...alright then. Now all we've gotta do is find 'em and not get ourselves killed in the process. Easy stuff." Luke lets out a huff of laughter, somehow knowing they'll be alright.

* * *

 

The woman in front of them is breathtaking, her very presence radiating strength and demanding respect. She's strong with the Force, too, a fact that Luke can feel down to his bones. There's something familiar about her, recalling an image of warm brown eyes and a loving, fleeting touch. Beside him, even Han seems to sense the importance of her, sending a glance towards Luke. With a raise of her brows, she moves forward to clasp first Luke's hands, then Han's.

"I'm Leia Organa. Welcome to the Rebel Alliance."

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I made you wait all the way till now to tell you: this was totally based on an episode of Steven Universe. If you caught that, come scream with me about this cringey show.
> 
> At least, that's how this started out. It kind of got carried away and there's a _lot_ more I want to this. Specifically, I kind of want to explore how Anakin's redemption would happen in this universe (which was weird, by the way, writing him as a villain since I've only ever written him prequel era) and the relationship between the trio. Chewbacca was supposed to show up at the end too, but it just didn't fit. Which is why I'm thinking about making this into a series? I don't know. If there's any interest, tell me.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated.


End file.
